


Netflix and Nil

by MeanderingMotivation



Series: A dysfunctional (but still functional) family [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (No smut though sorry guys), Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Attempted Seduction, Boys In Love, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, F/F, Father Victor, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Mila and Sara are kickass mothers, Mother-Son Relationship, Netflix and Chill, Oblivious Otabek, Otabek is precious, Overprotective Parents, SO MUCH FLUFF, Teenage Yuri and Otabek, Teensy Bit of Angst, Underage Drinking, mama yuuri, part of a series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-09-25 07:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9809945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeanderingMotivation/pseuds/MeanderingMotivation
Summary: Our parents are going out tonight. Want to Netflix and Chill?Otabek is unfamiliar with some modern terms. This time, he doesn't communicate his intentions clearly to a flustered Yuri.ORNot-so smol son Yuri attempts to seduce his longtime crush.





	1. We're only young and naive still

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo this is part of a series, the earlier work being Twelve Days of Christmas, a holiday story I wrote in December. Reading that first will make more sense, although this story takes place before the others completion. 
> 
> This story isn't extremely long, but it is a somewhat moderate size. It is also complete, so I can upload whenever I decide to edit. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

 

* * *

 

 

The text comes on a regular afternoon for Yuri. He’s just been pulled off of the ice by his papa, and been berated about completing his math homework by his mama, he’s eating a bowl of re-heated borscht from the night previous and idly listening as his parents chat in the kitchen. Normal. Predictable. Almost mundane in its regularity.

Yet, he couldn’t be happier. Yuri had a wonderful family, and he loved them dearly, despite his embarrassment at some of their behaviour. He was sixteen now, and being mortified by his parents seemed to be part of being a teenager.

“How are you feeling, _kitti?_ ” Victor asks warmly, ruffling his hair.

Yuri scowls, batting the hand away. On his lap, Rudolf hisses irritably as his position is slightly disrupted by the movement. The feline had settled on him the moment he’d sat down at the kitchen table, and seemed content to remain there for however long he pleased. “Fine.” He said shortly, narrowing his blue eyes when Victor glances at Yuuri. _“Why?”_ His papa was wearing a scheming look...

Victor opens his mouth to answer, but Yuri’s phone vibrates, and he glances downward.

**From: Otabek <3**

**To: Yuri**

**Our parents are going out tonight. Want to Netflix and Chill?**

At first, Yuri only comprehends the first sentence, and realises why Victor is behaving so suspicious. The man obviously wants an evening out, but needs Yuri to be in perfect shape. It was a condition Yuuri had about leaving the boy alone, even when he was now sixteen and perfectly capable of taking care of himself, lack of laundry skills or not…

Yes, his parents could be ridiculously overprotective. _Especially_ since the New Year’s Eve incident...

They watched Otabek like a hawk whenever he visited now, and rarely left them alone together. Mila and Sara had been much more relaxed about it (much to Victor’s abject horror) leading Yuri to believe that Otabek had gotten lucky to have such cool mothers. They even said they were _proud_ of Otabek, that he had good manners and was the perfect gentleman. Victor had disagreed, but after a tense Russian argument with Mila, Sara and Yuuri had intervened and they had let the matter rest. It seemed Russian parents could be extremely protective of their sons, or Victor and Mila tended to overreact. Either way, meetups between the two sets of parents had been somewhat awkward in the coming months. Now though, everything seemed to be resolved. True friends didn’t hold grudges forever, after all. Well, that was what Yuri’s mama told him when he brought up the issue.

What would they say if…

_Wait,_

Yuri blanched, jaw dropping.

_**Netflix and Chill?** Is he being **serious?**_

Yet, no matter how many times he blinked at the same sentence, the letters stayed the same. Otabek had really sent him those three words. Those three _suggestive_ words. Those three words that were making Yuri’s heart accelerate and his cheeks flush a deep crimson. Because _finally_ (not that he was desperate or anything) Otabek was-

A cool hand pressed to his forehead, and Yuri jerked backwards, his chair squeaking loudly. He slipped his phone back into his pocket, in an obvious action that had both of his parents raising their eyebrows. “What are you doing?” He demanded.

“Watch your tone.” Victor frowned, even when Yuuri pulled his hand away. “Is he alright?”

“No fever.” Yuuri confirmed.

Victor’s eyebrows raised impossibly higher. “What were you looking at that made you blush so heavily?”

“None of your business.” Yuri responded, surly. He hated when his parents were nosy. He was growing up, and didn’t need to tell them everything.

“Yuri-“ Victor started, but Yuuri cut him off with a shake of his head.

“When we gave Yuri a phone we decided he was mature enough to have one.” The Japanese male reminded. “We have to trust he’s doing the right thing.” Then, he narrowed his eyes for a small moment, scrutinising his son carefully. “Like he _promised._ ” He put emphasis on the final word, and Yuri immediately felt guilty. He may not have been sexting or performing illegal actions on his phone, but his mama sure knew how to make him feel guilty. “He’s a responsible boy.” Yuuri looked to his son for reassurance, and Yuri nodded.

“Yeah, _obviously_. I’m not doing anything bad.”

Victor’s hand twitched, clearly itching to snatch Yuri’s phone away, but he refrained from such an action. Besides, he knew his son had a strong passcode protecting his data. How he knew it was strong? He _may_ , or _may not_ have tried to hack into his son’s iPhone once or twice. Which, despite Yuuri’s horror if he found out (which he never did, Victor could be sneaky when he wanted to) was _totally_ normal. All fathers did that to protect their baby…

Yet, Victor was coming to realise more and more (and especially now with Yuri glowering at him) that his son wasn’t a child anymore. It was a hard reality to accept, especially for him. Both he and Yuuri had always been incredibly attached to their son, but Yuuri seemed more adept at moving on. Or at least _pretending_ like he had.

“Of course you aren’t.” Yuuri smiled at their son, leaning down to press a kiss to his still pink forehead. “I trust you. You’re a good boy.” He looked pointedly to Victor, and the man dropped his frown, trying for an apathetic look.

“ _Da_ , you are good. _Sometimes._ ”

Yuuri elbowed him for the remark, but Victor didn’t apologise. It was the truth, after all. Yuri was a teenager, and teenagers weren’t pleasant _all_ of the time. Not even half of it, really. Just a small percentage when they weren’t moody and embarrassed by their parents…

Victor couldn’t even ruffle Yuri’s hair at the end of an ice skating performance anymore. The boy got all huffy, even when he’d done a fine job and was sure to be on the podium. Apparently such actions were considered embarrassing now, although Victor used to squeeze the boy in a hard hug whenever he even finished _practicing._

“Whatever.” Yuri huffed, rolling his eyes. “I wish you guys would start treating me like an adult.”

“You shouldn’t be in such a rush to grow up.” Yuuri said, not unkindly. The man pulled a wet cloth from the sink, and carefully wiped at Yuri’s mouth, causing the boy to grimace.

“And you should learn not to let borscht stain your face.” Victor added wryly. “What kind of part Russian are you?”

“Don’t tease him, Victor.”

“I’d rather be teasing you, my beautiful pork cutlet bowl~”

_**“Ugh.”** _

 

* * *

 

 

His parents finally tell him they’re going out for the night sometime later, stern and cautious and _entirely_ suspicious (on Victor’s behalf, at least). He acts as surprised as he can manage, but he knows his mama can see through the act. His papa, however, not so much. He blabbers on and on, giving rules and pointing out a list of phone numbers he’s left in case of trouble. (“I do have a phone, you know?”) Yuri had pointed out, embarrassed his papa was treating him like some twelve year old left home alone for the first time. Victor had appeared indignant, but Yuuri had managed to calm him by whispering something in his ear.

Victor was displeased when Yuuri mentioned that Otabek was coming over, but again, he calmed when Yuuri spoke in his ear once more. This time, the smirk he gave was enough to make Yuri feel queasy. He was old enough to know what _that_ signified.

_Ew. Why are parents so **gross?**_

Once the pair are suitably distracted (AKA, arguing over what tie Yuuri should wear out) Yuri rushes to the bathroom, locking the door and starting the shower. He wants this to be a brisk process, so the two don’t get curious. From a drawer designated for his mama, Yuri carefully produces a pair of disposable razors, removing the caps and burying them in the bin nearby. He’s mostly hairless, much to his perturbation, but what hair he did have he wanted gone. He didn’t want Otabek to find him unattractive, that, and he thought a hairless form was prettier than a furry one. So, (trying not to think about the fact that his mama shaved his, well…) he hopped into the shower, covering his body in his papa’s shaving cream. Since he’s never developed facial hair, he doesn’t know how to shave, and the process is clumsy. More than once, he cuts himself, leaving shallow slices on his otherwise unblemished skin.

_It must seriously suck being a girl, and having to do this all of the time._

Once he’s satisfied (and the water has begun turning lukewarm, his parents are going to kill him) he washes away the shaving cream scent with his own body-wash. It’s a mixture of lime and strawberries, purchased on one of his many travels. The smell may be a little girlish, but Yuri didn’t like the musky scent of his papa’s or the floral smell of his mama’s. He wanted his own. Determined to be different, even in something as simple as smell.

There’s a knock on the door, and Yuri cringes, switching off the water.

“Yuri!” His papa calls through the wood separating them. “You’ve been in there a while. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” Yuri calls back.

_“Da,_ that is good.” Victor replies firmly. “Because your mama will kill you for using so much of the hot water.”

_Fuck._

 

* * *

 

 

“You look…nice.”

The compliment comes from his mama, and Yuri feels validated. He’s brushed his hair silky smooth, and dressed in his handsomest lounge clothes. Before he’d developed his crush for Otabek, he would have stayed in his pyjamas. Now, though…

“Thanks.” He murmured, idly picking at the loose string of his slacks. “You look nice, too.”

Yuuri was dressed in a pair of black jeans and a silk blouse, looking entirely too youthful for Yuri’s tastes. Both of his parents had aged ridiculously well. It kind of sucked hearing about how ‘hot’ his parents were all of the time. “I’m going out for dinner.” The Japanese male noted wryly. “And you, are not. What’s the occasion, Yuri?”

“What? I can’t want to look nice?”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Using defensiveness as a diversion tactic won’t work on me, Yuri-chan. Try it on your papa, on the other hand…” He trailed off, shaking his head exasperatedly. “You can tell me the truth, sweetheart. I’m always here for you.”

_Not for this. Not for something like this, **ever.** That’s what the internet is for._

Yuuri sighed. “Yuri, do you have a-“

“Ready to go?” Victor said cheerfully, coming into the lounge. He was dressed similarly to Yuuri, only his blouse was red. His eyes glimmered in excitement, it had been a while since they’d gone out, after all. Even with Yuri as a teenager, they didn’t like leaving him alone often. It was one of the reasons why they’d always liked leaving him with company in their absence. “Mila and Sara should be here any-“ As if on cue, the doorbell rang, and the Russian male rushed to greet them.

Yuri tried to mimic his typical uncaring slouch, although with a sexier angle. Head thrown back slightly so his blue eyes twinkled in the light…

Okay, so _maybe_ he’d read a chapter of JJ’s biography relating to dating, but he couldn’t exactly ask his mama or papa. Sure, they may have had respectable advice (Yuri frequently heard about how his parents were ‘relationship goals’ from multiple people) but speaking to them would be a dead giveaway about his feelings for Otabek. He didn’t want his papa breathing down his neck whenever Otabek came over. Well, more than he usually did since the whole kissing incident.

He hears his parents receiving the Russian mothers, and it takes a lot of restraint not to pull away from his position, afraid of looking foolish. But, steeling his nerves, he holds, and manages not to smile when he hears Otabek’s voice approaching. He loved that deep deadpan. He knows they’re in the room when the voices stop, and he barely refrains from looking up. He hears Otabek sharply inhale.

_**Success!** I knew this would work._

But then his papa is behind him, peering downward into his eyes with concern, and Yuri is yelping, throwing himself back in surprise and falling off of the couch completely. He lands with a light thump, arms flailing as he tries and fails to stop his abrupt descent.

“Yuri-chan!” He hears his mama breath in surprise, hurtling forward in a rush of maternal concern, lifting him up and scanning his body with worried eyes. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you feel any pain?”

Completely and utterly-

_Embarrassing._

Yuri jerks away from Yuuri, blushing fiercely. He can’t even look at Otabek. This wasn’t the mature, _ready_ impression he’d wanted to make. “I’m fine.” He grumbled, glaring at the ground. “You can let go of me now.”

“Oh, right.” Yuuri said sheepishly, releasing his son. He then turned a glower on his husband. He tended to get most irritated with Victor whenever he hurt their son, intentionally or not. “Victor! You frightened him half to death!” He murmured something in Japanese, barely audible, but it had Victor grimacing in apology.

“I thought there might have been something wrong with his neck.” He said as an excuse. “The way his head was positioned…” He cleared his throat, awkward under Yuuri’s judging stare. “Sorry, Yuri. I should have been more careful. I forgot you get startled so easily.”

_Startled easily? At this rate, Otabek will **never-**_

“Are you hurt, Yuri?” Otabek asked, despite Yuuri’s earlier questioning. His dark eyes scrutinised Yuri for any injuries or strains.

“I’m fine.” Yuri repeated, with much more nicety. “Seriously. Everyone can stop worrying.”

“I wasn’t worried.” Mila spoke up for the first time, with a red-lipped smile. She was wearing a halter necked dress, and looking entirely youthful. “Russians are hardy. Even the half ones.”

“Says the woman who can’t stand menstrual cramps.” Sara rebutted jokingly. She looked just as lovely. “We non-Russians are tough as well. Right, Yuuri?”

“Yeah!” Yuuri agreed. “Victor is always moaning about hot weather like he’s going to melt.”

“Excuse me for being accustomed to snowy climates.”

“You can’t use that as an excuse. You’ve travelled all over the world.”

“Well you can’t stand missing a meal!”

“It isn’t healthy to miss meals!”

“That’s exactly what I tell Mila when she chooses to have vodka for dinner.”

“You’re making me sound like such a stereotypical Russian, Sara. I’m not an alcoholic. I hold my liquor well. Unlike some Italian who can only handle fruity wine.”

“Wine is healthier than vodka, anyhow.”

_“Please.”_

“No, she’s right, Mila. Wine has some health benefits. I read about it in France once, although Victor refused to believe me.”

“Why do you care, Yuuri? You prefer champagne or sake.”

“I have varied tastes, Victor.”

_“Right.”_

Yuri and Otabek watched as their respective parents bickered, unsurprised. The group often bickered together, although they certainly got along splendidly regardless. They’d stop soon and leave. Yuri was counting down the minutes.

 

* * *

 

 


	2. We require certain skills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri tries to seduce Otabek, to minimal success. Luckily the other male will always be there for him. 
> 
> OR
> 
> Yuri is brazen, but entirely inexperienced. Awkwardness ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter. Thanks for reading and whatever.

 

* * *

 

 

He wanted to be alone with Otabek as soon as possible. He hadn’t mutilated his body whilst shaving for nothing. No matter how self-conscious it would make him, he wanted Otabek’s warm eyes on his naked form, and his rough hands on his body. Sex. He wanted _sex,_ like most teenagers. He wanted sex with his childhood best friend and ice skating competitor. He wanted romance as well, he wanted to be held and loved and pampered…

_God. I sound **needy…**_

And Yuri knew, without a doubt, that Otabek would provide him with all of that. It was just the kind of guy he was. He wanted to do right by Yuri, in all matters. Honestly, Yuri was surprised the other male hadn’t found someone yet, he was the perfect candidate for dating. Although he’d expressed his interest in Yuri before…

Otabek could have had anyone he wanted, and he still chose _Yuri._ It gave the blond boy butterflies just to know this. It made him feel special, like he wasn’t just another kid with famous parents. Most people couldn’t look past Victor and Yuuri’s reputation to see him clearly, but Otabek had no problem doing that and _more._ Otabek was, as his mother’s constantly praised, a wonderful boy.

It baffled Yuri why Victor couldn’t see that. Otabek had never once been disrespectful to the man, even when Victor was openly hostile after the New Year’s incident. He was always courteous and kind, never a toe out of line. At least Yuuri knew this…

_At least papa will be gone tonight. Otabek and I can finally be comfortable without him giving us the third degree._

“We should probably get going.” Sara announced suddenly, noting the time on her golden watch. It matched the wedding ring on her finger. “We don’t want to lose our reservation.”

_“Da.”_ Mila agreed, she sent a smile to her quiet son, kissing him on the cheek. “We’ll see you later, Otabek. Have fun!”

Unlike Yuri, Otabek was never embarrassed by his parent’s affections, and returned the smile with a small one of his own. “You too, Mom. Don’t go too overboard with the vodka.”

The Russian woman batted at her son playfully. “Oh, shut up, you little traitor.”

Sara mimicked her wife’s actions, pecking her son on the cheek lovingly. “I know I don’t need to say it, but be a good boy, Otabek. Respect Yuuri and Victor’s home.”

“Of course.” Otabek nodded obediently.

Yuuri and Victor’s farewells were much less relaxed. Yuri squirmed horribly when Yuuri attempted to kiss his forehead, and rolled his eyes insolently when Victor began ranting about ‘the rules’ for the countless time that day. Although really…

_I should be grateful he’s leaving us alone. Without a chastity device, no less._

It was almost a little…uncharacteristic. But Yuri wasn’t about to look the gift horse in the mouth. He could only be glad his papa was lightening up somewhat. One minuscule piece at a time. “I get it!” He finally growled, when Victor kept blabbering. The two women were looking bored, but were too polite to interrupt. Yuuri had disappeared after hearing a knock at the door, and had yet to return. Vaguely, Yuri wondered who it was, but assumed it must have been a salesperson or maybe a creepy fan…

When he did return, Yuri snapped his head to his father, eyes narrowing in rage. “What the hell?” He hissed, gesturing to the person accompanying Yuuri. The Japanese man looked unimpressed. Clearly, he had no idea Victor had invited another guest. Let alone one who was…

“Christophe!” Mila exclaimed, mouth dropping open. “I didn’t know you were in town!”

“I just arrived today.” The blond man proclaimed with a perfect, white grin. “When Victor asks me a favour, I can hardly refuse.”

“Favour?” Sala repeated confusedly. “What kind of ‘favour’?”

Christophe cocked his head, clearly having expected her to know. “Babysitting, of course! Papa bear Victor didn’t want to leave his cub alone tonight so I’m here to watch him!”

_**Kill me now.** _

Yuri wanted the ground to swallow him whole. His papa had gotten him a _babysitter._ Him, a sixteen year old boy! He certainly didn’t require one, and hadn’t had one in other circumstances, which meant that Victor had done this solely…

_He **really** doesn’t want me to be alone with Otabek._

But oh no. Yuri was not about to surrender tonight. He’d shaved, damn it! And he was excited. He wanted to take the next step with Otabek, and he’d be damned if he let his stupidly overprotective father ruin his prospective evening…

So, despite knowing he was about to be completely rude to his father, in front of company, no less, Yuri snarled. “What the fuck is your deal!?” He demanded.

Victor, who had moved to embrace Chris, shot him a stern look. “Don’t speak to your papa that way, Yuri.”

Yuri wasn’t about to be daunted, however. “I’ll speak to you however I want, you asshole! Why the hell did you bring Uncle Chris here to babysit me? I haven’t been babysat in years!”

“He has a point, Victor.” Yuuri said curtly, giving the Russian man a disapproving look.

Christophe cleared his throat. “Uh, I can see when I’m not wanted…”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Victor said sharply. “Yuri is just being a brat.”

“I am not! You’re the one being a paranoid old fool!”

“I am just trying to-“

Yuuri sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am so embarrassed.” He murmured, just loud enough for everyone else to catch. Victor cowed at the remark, sending his husband an apologetic look. Yuuri wasn’t inclined to go easy on him, however. _Or_ Yuri. Ever since Yuri had hit puberty, the two had been arguing frequently. The Japanese male didn’t know which one was more juvenile, which was rather upsetting. Victor was supposed to be the mature _adult._ “I’m so sorry,” He apologised sincerely to their guests. “If I knew this was how Victor was going to behave I wouldn’t have agreed to go out tonight.”

“Me?” Victor was indignant. “Yuri is the one being a disobedient-“

Yuuri jabbed a finger into Victor’s chest harshly. “ _You’re_ the one who sprung Christophe on us. I don’t recall you bringing up your intention to have Yuri babysat at the age of _sixteen_!”

Victor had the shame to look a little abashed. “I’m just looking after him.”

Mila frowned, suddenly catching onto why Christophe had been invited. “Hold on, did you invite Swiss boy here over because you think my son is some kind of _predator_?”

“Of course not.” Yuuri cut in, before Victor could reply and tarnish his relationship with the rest of their friends. It was a wonder the man had any to begin with. The Russian male lost his senses completely whenever their son and Otabek were involved. “He’s just babying Yuri, like usual. _**Right,** _ Victor?” He shot the man a deadly glare, practically daring him to disagree. Otabek was still a boy, and he didn’t deserve to be regarded as some kind of rapist, like Victor so clearly thought. Besides, Yuuri knew…

The evidence was all there, Yuri was obviously crushing on the other male. _Hard._ Yuuri wasn’t blind, he’d seen the way his son looked at the older boy, and he hadn’t overlooked the fact that Yuri had used some of his razors that day. Yes, it was daunting to know his little boy was growing up, but Yuuri knew there was no way to halt the process. Yuri couldn’t be a baby forever, and Victor had to accept that. Plus, he trusted the pair of boys to be left alone. Admittedly, Yuri may have been a little…naïve, but Yuuri knew Otabek would never take advantage of him, and he trusted that Mila and Sara had taught the boy about sexual health the same way he’d done with Yuri…

Not Victor, though. He refused to think of his son as a sexual being.

_“Da.”_ Victor managed to get out gruffly.

Mila appeared sceptical, but Sara seemed willing to accept the explanation. Yuuri knew the woman was too clever to overlook the obvious facts though. She was clearly choosing to forgive Victor for his appalling behaviour. “How silly,” The Italian woman laughed, wrapping an arm around Mila’s waist. “Victor, you worry too much. Yuri is nearly a man.”

Victor appeared dejected at this, and shrugged.

Mila relaxed. “Oh Vitya, always so protective…”

Yuuri mouthed his thanks to Sara, who sent him a subtle wink back.

Christophe merely blinked in confusion, running a hand through his golden hair. “Soooo…” He drawled awkwardly.

Feeling bad about momentarily forgetting the man, Yuuri offered him a timid smile. “I’m sorry about this, Chris. You don’t need to watch Yuri. Would you like to join us for dinner instead? I’m sure the restaurant won’t mind an additional seat…”

“I thought you’d never ask!” Christophe beamed. “Of course I’ll come! I even packed my _Armani_ suit, which heightens my sex appeal…”

“We really are going to be late if we don’t go now.” Sara said fretfully. “Christophe, can you change in the car?”

“It seems you want to see me naked, Sara~”

“Dream on, bike boy. Sara isn’t interested in _men._ ”

“No need to be jealous, Mila…”

Chatting, the group began to filter outside, but Yuuri and Victor hung behind. Their son was standing with his arms crossed, clearly still annoyed with the whole affair. “Say you’re sorry.” Yuuri hissed to Victor, and the man pouted, but obeyed nevertheless.

“I’m sorry, Yuri.” He said flatly, no sincerity in his voice. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“Whatever.” Yuri grumbled.

Then, just to spite the boy, the Russian father smacked a kiss onto his forehead. “Love you, _kitti_. If you get scared you can sleep in mama and papa’s bed, okay?”

Yuri flushed a bright crimson, and Yuuri grabbed Victor by the ear and yanked him backwards. “Be safe.” Yuuri said, looking only at Otabek as he spoke. “We’ll be back later.”

“Whatever.” Yuri scowled. “Oh, and papa, fuck you, asshole.”

Victor looked to Yuuri, expecting his husband to chide their son, but Yuuri only shrugged. “You kind of deserve that one…” He whispered. “Now _come on_ , before Yuri murders you.” The Japanese male practically dragged Victor through the door, and the two teenagers exhaled a sigh of relief when the door was locked behind them.

Yuri dropped his head, lamenting that his plan to appear cool and collected had failed dismally. Once more, he’d ended up appearing young and foolish to Otabek. How was it that Otabek managed to make him feel so small? He didn’t feel like this around anyone else… “Fucking hell.” He bemoaned. “I hate my life…”

Otabek chuckled, a rich sound that made Yuri feel warm even in the coldest of temperatures. “Don’t feel bad, Yuri. I think your parents are funny.”

“Funny?” Yuri was fuming. “You think they’re _funny_? Come on, you _know_ my papa-“

“Distrusts me? Yes, I do. How could I not? It is blatantly obvious.” Otabek interrupted tonelessly. “Subtly is not your papa’s strongest suit.”

“Then how come you aren’t angry?” Sure, Yuri was glad Otabek wasn’t leaving him, but it still seemed surreal to think the boy hadn’t snapped yet. Yuri would have long ago…

_He’s so patient. It’s amazing._

Otabek shrugged his shoulders with a small smile. The action drew Yuri’s attention to the leather jacket he was wearing, and the younger male wanted to grasp the lapels and pull him closer, until he could smell the scent unique to Otabek. He refrained, however. He’d already been embarrassed enough that evening, he didn’t want to add to the mortification. “Because he’s your papa. He’s only behaving like that because he cares about you.”

“And because he’s stupid.” Yuri couldn’t resist adding.

“You shouldn’t be too harsh on him, Yuri. He really loves you.”

“So now **_you’re_** scolding me as well?” Yuri felt a little betrayed. “If I wanted to hang out with someone who scolds me I would have gone out to dinner with my mama, Otabek.”

The hard features of Otabek’s chiselled face softened. “I’m sorry, Yuri. I didn’t mean to make you feel upset.”

“Can we just forget this ever happened?” Yuri requested, trying not to sound desperate.

Otabek nodded shortly. “Agreed. This never happened. Our evening is commencing now.”

Feeling a small bout of playfulness (and a whole heap of relief) Yuri strode forward, wrapping his arms around Otabek’s shoulders. It was a bold move, but Yuri knew he had to initiate things if he ever wanted to move forward in this relationship. “Hello Mr. Biker,” He greeted, running his hands over the rough leather. “You come for a fight?”

Otabek hummed with amusement, placing his own arms around Yuri’s waist. Carefully, delicately, giving enough time for Yuri to step back if he needed. “No. No fight.” He shook his head, chortling when Yuri looked put-out. “Just some Netflix and chill.”

Yuri shuddered at the statement, skin tingling with anticipation. Otabek had finally said it, now…

_You can do this, Yuri. Just like I planned…_

Peering through his eyelashes as coyly as he could manage, Yuri grasped Otabek’s larger hands. Ignoring the other male’s raised eyebrows, he led him to the couch, pushing him down gently. Yuri crawled halfway into his lap, but paused when Otabek shifted uncomfortably. Was he being too hasty?

“What do you want to watch?” Otabek questioned, and Yuri’s mind went blank for a moment, before he became confused.

_Does he really want to play along to such an extent? I guess if it makes him feel happy…_

“Um, I don’t mind. You can choose.” Yuri said, trying to maintain his sultry demeanour. Doing so was rather hard when Otabek was now fiddling with the television remote, and browsing through Yuri’s Netflix profile.

_Maybe he’s nervous, like me…_

Yuri withdrew, and waited patiently as Otabek searched for something to watch. He expected him to choose something inconsequential, something that would easily fade into the background as they engaged in _other_ activities, but…

“ _A Series of Unfortunate Events_.” Otabek read slowly. “That is book, yes?”

_“Da._ Papa read them to me when I was little.” Yuri responded distractedly. He was too busy staring at Otabek’s chapped lips…

“We can watch this then.”

_What? He can’t be serious! There’s **no** way I can get it up with Count Olaf in the background…_

“English literature is curious.” Otabek said, as he clicked on the first episode. The episode popped up on the screen, and began to stream. For once, Yuri cursed his high quality internet connection. The show was playing before he could say another word, and he was doomed to sit silently as Otabek became immersed in the introduction.

_Is this some kind of weird Netflix and Chill foreplay? Do you actually watch something first? If so, why did he choose something like **this?**_

Yuri wrinkled his nose as the nefarious Count Olaf appeared.

_How is **this** supposed to get me in the mood?_

Otabek looked perfectly content watching the show…

_Wait, does that mean this gets **him** in the mood!?_

Surreptitiously, Yuri glanced at Otabek’s jeans.

_No boner. He isn’t aroused. Yet. Thank God, if he was aroused by Count Olaf, I don’t know how the hell sex with us would work…_

“Are you okay, Yuri?”

Yuri started at the question, and realised he was still standing. “Da.” He affirmed, as convincingly as he could manage.

But Otabek had furrowed his eyebrows. “You look…stressed. Do you not like this? We can watch something else, if you wish.”

“ _Nyet_ , it is fine...” When Otabek appeared unconvinced, he cleared his throat. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

_Oh God, I sound like my mother._

Said mother had made Yuri and Otabek dinner, but Yuri really couldn’t make grilled mackerel sexy. He just couldn’t. “We can have some popcorn.” He offered. “Unsalted, no butter.” They needed to maintain their bodies for competing, after all…

“Bland.” Otabek added, pausing the show to stare at Yuri with a small grin. “I could have a drink, though.”

_Drinks. I can do that._

Yuri nodded jerkily, and went to the kitchen. He knew Otabek liked coffee, but he didn’t know how to use the expresso machine. Nor did he want the other boy too jittery. Soda was out of the question, too much sugar and calories…

Juice? No, what were they? _Four?_

Milk was for babies…

Water was boring…

In frustration, Yuri opened one of the higher cabinets, and raised his eyebrows at what was inside. Supposedly, his parents never kept alcohol in the house. They merely purchased what they needed at the time, opposed to stocking up. It meant they consumed less alcohol on a whim…

Or so he thought.

Yuri never opened the top cabinets. He’d been forbidden to do so as a child, and the order had simply stuck. He’d never thought his parents were interesting enough to hide anything of interest. He’d assumed it was merely designated for that disgusting medicine they produced whenever he got sick…

Also, he’d learned not to rifle in drawers and cupboards from a young age. He may not have known what his parent’s sex toys were as a young child, but the memory still haunted him now. Couldn’t they at least had a lock to keep his innocent eyes away from the corrupting objects? Sure, he’d thought the handcuffs and nipple clamps were for playing a fun game, but the vibrating dildo had been hard to explain away…

Victor had managed, though. He’d told Yuri it was an exotic type of back massager. He’d even demonstrated it on Yuri’s own back, much to Yuuri’s horror. The Japanese male had been positively appalled, even though the toy was thoroughly cleaned after each use.

Now though…

_Vodka, whine, whiskey!? Are my parents secret, high-functioning alcoholics? When do they even drink this stuff?_

The bottles were in varying states of emptiness, and for safety purposes (he didn’t want his parents to know he was snooping in their not-so-secret alcohol stash) he selected the vodka, knowing a simple shot or two wouldn’t be noticed. Besides, he was a tough Russian, vodka was in his _blood._ He could tolerate it no problem…

With this confidence in mind, Yuri fished out a pair of shot glasses (hidden behind the vodka bottle) and opened the lid, pouring the liquid into the two glasses. He overfilled the first, and sucked at the excess that sloshed onto his fingers.

He scrunched up his face at the strong taste. It was horrible, and tasted unlike anything he’d ever consumed before…

_Blech. I don’t know how papa can like this. Maybe it’s an acquired taste? Maybe when I grow up more I’ll like it…_

Not wanting Otabek to get bored, he carried the two glasses into the lounge area, and offered one to Otabek with a vague smirk. “Shot?”

Otabek blinked expressionlessly. “Are you even allowed to drink?”

_Well, I guess it is good he isn’t being a killjoy…_

_“Da,_ of course.” Yuri lied with false assurance. “I’m half Russian! Papa gives me vodka all of the time!”

“Being part-Russian doesn’t mean you automatically love vodka, Yuri.” Still, Otabek accepted his glass, swigging it back without a single wince.

Yuri imitated the move, and blinked away the water that formed in his eyes. The taste was _**awful.**_ Still, it brought a strange rush to his head, and he felt more confident. Grown up. This was what grown men did at home before having sex…

Now if they could just proceed to the sex…

Otabek’s chuckle shook him from his thoughts, and he regarded the other teen curiously.

“What?”

“Vodka is a little strong, Yuri. You don’t have to drink to impress me.”

Otabek had seen through him so easily. It was embarrassing.

It was infuriating.

How could he be a cool seductress when Otabek was making him feel like an inexperienced virgin? The night had barely begun, and he was already failing…

In typical stubborn Yuri fashion, he denied what Otabek was saying completely. “I’m not!” He huffed, crossing his arms defensively. “I just really like the flavour! In fact, I’m going to have another-“

Sensing he’d upset the other male, Otabek reached and grasped his arm, pulling him down onto his lap. The motion surprised Yuri, and his grip on the shot glass turned lax, the glass falling harmlessly onto the carpet and rolling away.

He grabbed Otabek’s shoulders to remain upright, and peered through his hair at the attractive male. He was sitting on Otabek’s lap.

He was sitting on Otabek’s lap. His hands grasping the other male’s shirt. Feeling his broad shoulders beneath his palms, and his muscled thighs beneath his-

He was on Otabek’s lap.

_I’m on his **fucking lap.**_

Yuri’s brain felt fried, and it took a moment for him to register Otabek’s concerned look. “I’m fine…” He hurried to assure, not wanting to disrupt their position. “Um…you’re warm…”

_You’re warm? Seriously? Of all the lame, dim-witted-_

Otabek looped his arms around Yuri’s waist, and squeezed softly. “You’re warm, too.”

There was a silence, and Yuri realised _this_ was it. _This_ was his chance. He was in a semi-intimate position, had just drunk some liquid courage, and Lord Olaf was currently off screen so he didn’t have to hear his theatrical voice.

_This is it. I **can do** this._

Before he could convince himself otherwise, Yuri captured Otabek’s lips in a clumsy kiss. They were chapped, but warm, and he moved his own clumsily, until Otabek finally reciprocated hesitantly. Gently. Like Yuri was something fragile. It was sweet and all, but…

Yuri wanted something more. Something harder, hotter. So he pushed Otabek against the back of the couch, biting at the other teen’s lower lip, eager for more.

Otabek, however, had other plans. He raised his hands and carefully pulled Yuri back, peering at him quizzically. “Did you drink more vodka in the kitchen?”

Blushing, Yuri scowled. _“Nyet._ Why?” He demanded.

“I was just wondering,” Otabek was annoyingly stony considering their position. “What brought all of this on?”

“What do you mean?” Yuri was becoming more flustered by the second. He hadn’t expected Otabek to stop him and want to _talk._ What were they, _girls?_

“Exactly what I said. Why all of the sudden kissing?”

“What, you didn’t like it?” Yuri challenged, his voice was cocky, but inwardly he was panicking.

_I didn’t even use tongue, and I still kissed wrong?_

Much to his delight, however, Otabek flushed. “It wasn’t that, **_of course_** I did. You know that, I…” He breathed heavily. “Yuri…”

It wasn’t often that Otabek was speechless, and Yuri felt a little smug. And all from a tiny, tongueless kiss.

He’d love to see Otabek’s reaction if he went down on him. He needed practice to perfect his technique, after all. Sex was just like skating. At least that was what he’d read in JJ’s book...

“I like kissing you,” Otabek went on, more composed. “But I’m curious as to why you chose _now_. I know your parents are out, but wouldn’t you prefer to wait at least a little longer? Until we’re in a bedroom?”

“We can go now-“

“Slow down, Yuri. That isn’t what I mean. I…didn’t expect this. Shouldn’t we talk about it, first? I mean, I didn’t even bring a condom. Do you know about safe sex?” The mild, doting way he spoke rubbed Yuri the wrong way. He knew Otabek was only concerned about him, but he didn’t appreciate being treated like a child.

“Of course I do!” Yuri snapped. “I’m not some little kid!”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Yuri. I just wanted to know-“

“How could you _forget_ a condom!?” Yuri interrupted, angry that his evening was going awry. “You’re the one who wanted to _Netflix and Chill!”_

Otabek blinked slowly, thoughtfully. Then… “I fear I have made a mistake with my colloquialisms again, Yuri. Does _Netflix and Chill_ typically entail something _other_ than watching a streaming service and relaxing?”

_“O moy grebanyy Bog…” (Oh my fucking God)_ Yuri hissed, lapsing into Russian. _“YA takoy idiot!”_

“Oh Yuri,” Otabek sighed, stroking a hand over the Russian’s smooth skin. “You aren’t an idiot, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart…” Yuri moaned. “You sound like my mother…”

_I should be moaning in pleasure. Not mortification. I wanted to be mature! An adult! I just misunderstood him completely._

Yuri really should have suspected so. Otabek wasn’t that updated on modern terms, and it wasn’t the first time he’d used one incorrectly. Yuri could still remember the awkwardness that had ensued when the boy announced he’d been ‘teabagged’ whilst playing a video game. The uniformed boy had assumed the other player had been drinking tea whilst they were fighting. Needless to say, Mila and Sara had laughed uproariously at their naïve son. Yuri would have felt embarrassed by this, but Otabek had merely shrugged unconcernedly.

“I’m sorry, Yuri.” Otabek apologised deeply, eyes filed with empathy. “I should have been more precise with my phrasing.”

_But I shaved! I went through this whole ridiculous seduction façade…_

Yuri blew a stray strand of hair from his face.

“It was irresponsible of me-“

“Why do you always treat me like a kid?” Yuri demanded, cutting the other boy off. “You know I like you, and I know you like me. So what’s the problem? Why are we sitting here right now and not…” He trailed off, swallowing heavily. _**“You know…”**_

“Are you sure you want our first time to be on your parent’s lounge?” Otabek inquired doubtfully. “It isn’t exactly dignified.”

Yuri scoffed angrily. “Why? Because I’m some prissy bitch who needs rose petals and candles?”

Otabek frowned stormily, and Yuri felt a little surprised. The man didn’t often become irritated. He was used to Yuri’s mood swings. “Will you stop speaking about yourself like that? You know I don’t think of you that way.”

“Then why aren’t we fucking right now?”

“Because you _**deserve better**_.” Otabek enunciated firmly. “You deserve better than two minutes on a couch with American television blaring in the background.”

“Wait, what do you mean _two minutes_?”

Otabek gave an amused huff. “Our first time won’t be perfect, Yuri. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure we _**both**_ …” He trailed off pointedly. “Get off.” He finished awkwardly.

_Wow. I’ve never seen him look so embarrassed._

Yuri felt almost amused himself. It wasn’t often Otabek appeared so…open. Now that he thought about it, he could understand Otabek’s point of view. Still… “Would you prefer a bed, then?” Yuri asked teasingly.

“Of course. The better to make love to you.”

Yuri’s face exploded with heat.

_How can he say cheesy stuff like that with a straight face?_

“What I’m meaning to say, Yuri, is that although you are beautiful and clever and I do want you _**very much**_ , I want to do this _**right.** _ I want our first time to be…”

_Is he seriously going to say-?_

“Special.”

Yuri loathes the gooey feeling in his chest in that moment. He feels like he’s in a cliché love story, yet he’s helpless against it. And he can’t bring himself to mock Otabek for his sweet words. The man was too genuine for that.

Instead he nods, smiling fondly. _“Da._ If that’s what you want.”

“Is it what _you_ want?”

Yuri pressed a chaste kiss to Otabek’s cheek. “I just want you. If you want to wait, I’ll wait.”

“It’s the sensible thing to do. Besides, your papa would kill me if I deflowered you before we even went on a date.”

Yuri scowled. “Shut up. I don’t want to talk about him.”

“You know he just-“

“Loves me. _Da,_ I know.”

“Actually I was going to say he just needs some perspective. He’s a little too overprotective. I bet right now, he’s thinking about us…”

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this was enjoyed. If not, sorry for wasting your time. (Please) review if you would like, no pressure though. There will be one short chapter after this. Hopefully it should be posted soon. Thanks for everyone who left Kudos and stuff. 
> 
> See ya!


	3. The mood it changes like the wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Victor is an overprotective papa, and Yuuri is a super kaasan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This last chapter should have been published ages ago, as it's been sitting waiting for me to post. However I haven't gotten around to it until now. Sorry. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this short, final, humorous chapter!

 

* * *

 

 

“Honestly, this meal is delicious.” Sara complimented, leaning against her wife’s side. “I’m glad we got to go out tonight. It doesn’t happen often enough.”

“Such is life with children!” Mila pronounced, a glass of wine in her polished hands. After a few shots of vodka, Sara had convinced her to switch to the milder alcohol. “But we love them anyway, right, _moya lyubimaya zhena?” (My lovely wife.)_

Sara smiled at the woman, leaning forward to peck her lips. “ _Si Mio caro.” (Yes, my darling.)_

Christophe, rather distant from the conversation topic considering he had no children, cooed at the sight. “Aw. I never thought I’d see a cuter couple than Victor and Yuuri, but you two _just_ manage to pull it off.”

“How cruel, Christophe.” Victor pouted, sipping from his own glass. Vodka, as the man couldn’t be convinced otherwise. Yuuri sat next to him, still picking at the remains of his dessert. “And here I thought we were friends.”

Christophe smirked. “Friends do not lie, Victor.” Then, his smirk widened. “Besides, Mila and Sara are soon to be surpassed. Otabek and Yuri were looking particularly smitten with-“

From across the table, Yuuri kicked at the other male’s legs, causing him to stop speaking with a pained yelp. However, it was too late, the damage had been done, and Victor was getting to his feet with a frown. “I _knew_ they looked suspicious. Yuuri, I’m going home at once. You can stay behind if you wish.”

“Victor, don’t be hasty.” Yuuri cautioned, but the man was already proceeding to pay for their meals, clearly antsy to return to their home. “Victor, I said-“

“Let him go, Yuuri.” Mila interrupted, waving a hand uncaringly. “They won’t be doing anything raunchy. Otabek knows better than that. Unlike _some_ people, I can trust my son.”

“It isn’t that he doesn’t trust Yuri.” Yuuri spoke quietly, not wanting to aggravate his Russian husband. “He just hasn’t grown out of his protective phase. He still thinks of Yuri like a small child. It makes him overprotective. He’ll…grow out of it, eventually.”

Mila snorted. “So long as he isn’t rude to my son. Otabek is a good boy. He’d never do a thing to hurt Yuri. He cares about him too much for that.”

“And I appreciate that.” Yuuri assured. “You’ve raised a wonderful son.”

“The credit isn’t ours to claim.” Sara disputed. “He came wonderful. We’re so lucky.”

“Kids sound so complicated.” Christophe’s voice was strained, and he was massaging his lower leg with a wince. “I’m glad I haven’t had any. It doesn’t seem rewarding enough.”

Before Yuuri could comment, Victor was shrugging into his coat and heading for the door. “I’ll see you all later.” He bode the three. “Don’t rush home on our account. I can handle Victor. I’ll make sure he behaves himself.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Katsuki.” Mila said, taking another swig from her glass. “Just get going before that overprotective moron leaves you behind. We’ll catch a taxi back later.”

Yuuri gave a short bow, and then hurried after his husband. He caught him outside on the pavement, and followed him silently into the car. The man hurriedly turned the key, and reversed from their parking spot sleekly. Despite Victor’s reputation as a bad, somewhat reckless driver, he’d certainly mellowed since having a son.

This may have had something to do with Yuuri shrieking in terror whenever he went a little over the speed limit with Yuri in the car. Said man sighed now, turning up the volume of the radio. It was clear his usually chatty husband wasn’t in the mood for talking. Some vaguely irritating but catchy pop tune was playing, and Yuuri wearily eyed Victor from his peripherals. The man seemed determined, blue eyes steely and jaw set.

Yuuri could only hope the two teenagers in their home weren’t engaged in anything remotely intimate. Victor would have a meltdown. The situation would be harder to control then. Yuuri doubted Otabek would act rashly, but Yuri would certainly react to an argument instigated by Victor. They’d probably scream at one another so loudly the police would be called to their residence. The father and son tended to clash horribly in arguments, likely due to the similarities in their personalities.

_**Please** let them be acting impeccably._

Yuuri inwardly prayed.

_At the least, I hope they hear us come inside the house, and have the sense to separate._

Alas, Victor must have been thinking along a similar line to his husband. As when they arrived (the man parking in the driveway as quietly as possible) he snuck out of the car in a graceful movement, practically _tip-toeing_ up the path to the front door.

It was such a borderline ridiculous action that Yuuri rolled his eyes, following at a regular pace. “Honestly, Victor.” He said with exasperation. “Are you seriously trying to catch our son out? Of all the immature-“

Victor shushed him violently, procuring their house key with minimal jangling. He turned it in the lock slowly, releasing a breath when the door clicked open softly.

_This would be comical if it weren’t so stupid._

Yuuri ghosted inside after his husband. Victor headed for the lounge, and after a small moment, jumped inside the room with a triumphant “AHA!”

…Only to find two seemingly model teenagers on the couch, separated by a modest distance, sharing a bowl of popcorn as they focused on the television. They started at the sudden appearance of Victor, and the man’s victorious expression faded into confusion.

“What the hell, Papa?” Yuri sounded annoyed, with a hint of bemusement. “Do you want to give me a heart-attack? I didn’t even hear the front door open…”

Otabek peered behind the two parents. “Are my mother’s here?” He questioned.

“Um, no.” Yuuri replied a little lamely. “They decided to stay out a little longer.”

Otabek nodded his understanding, before turning back to the television, scooping up a small handful of popcorn.

Yuri would not be so easily pacified. “Then why are you two back?” He questioned suspiciously.

_Oh no. If he finds out Victor doesn’t trust him…_

“Your papa felt a little unwell.” Yuuri intervened quickly. “I don’t think the entrée agreed with him. We decided to come home early so he could rest.”

Victor shot him a grateful look, and Yuuri narrowed his eyes, communicating with them to the best of his ability. _**“You better make this up to me, overprotective idiot.”**_

To which Victor winked, and Yuuri could practically hear his smouldering response. “ _ **I can make it up to you in the bedroom, my beautiful pork cutlet bowl.”**_

Yuri merely peered between the two, not completely convinced with Yuuri’s excuse.

Blessedly, Otabek accepted it easily. “How unfortunate. I hope you feel better soon.”

“Thank you.” Victor said curtly.

Yuuri released a breath he had been holding, and looked around the room. Nothing seemed amiss, or out of place. Whatever they were watching seemed age appropriate…

Then his eyes caught a glimpse of something glimmering on the carpet.

_Is that a…shot glass?_

Yuuri frowned.

_I should have locked that liquor cabinet._

It seemed Yuri had followed his mother’s glance, as his face leeched of colour upon noticing the glass he had clearly forgotten to put away. He looked to his mother nervously, and Yuuri thinned his lips in displeasure. Yet…

_The **last thing** anyone needs is Victor thinking Otabek is a bad influence because **Yuri** got it into his head that he could drink vodka._

It was obvious it was the Russian boy’s idea. Otabek would never behave in such a manner.

_I can’t let Victor see that shot glass._

Making a split-second decision, Yuuri edged over to where the glass was resting, leaning down to pick it up before Victor noticed, slipping it carefully into his pants pocket. Luckily, the glass managed to fit. Although he’d have to put it away before Victor noticed the bulge…

For now, he tucked his blouse over the tell-tale bump in his pocket. He’d wait until Victor was suitably distracted before sneaking into the kitchen.

Yuri appeared immensely relieved by his mother’s actions, and looked to him with big, repentant eyes.

Which Yuuri didn’t trust. _“Grounded.”_ He mouthed.

Yuri’s shoulders slumped dejectedly.

_I guess he’s finally reached his rebellious years…_

Yuuri was grateful that Otabek was there to be his voice of reason.

Really, Victor should have been _**glad.**_ Yuri could have chosen someone _**much**_ worse.

 

_```END```_

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely hope you enjoyed. 
> 
> (Please) Review if you would like. No pressure though. Let me know if this universe is worth continuing with other stories. Or, alternatively, check out the previous story this is based on. 
> 
> I know a lot of stuff is going on in the world right now, and I hope you're all doing okay. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the short cut-off. I should upload the next chapter soon. Hopefully. I've wanted to post this for a while now but I felt a little nervous...
> 
> Anyhow, I hope you're having a nice day/night, wherever you are!
> 
> PS: I love writing doting Yuuri and overprotective Victor :3


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